Runaway Wizard
by bluminous8
Summary: AU Voldemort is defeated, and all's well in the Wizarding World. Why has Harry abandoned it?
1. Chapter 1

**Runaway Wizard**  
By: **Bluminous**  
Genre: Humor/Adventure  
Summary:  
AU. Voldemort is defeated, and all's well in the Wizarding World. Why has Harry abandoned it?  
Author's notes: This is the first time I'll write in the first person perspective, so forgive me if there are some errors. I was inspired to write this story when I read Rachel Cusk's "A country life".  
– blu (still stubbornly writing without a beta)

**_Prologue:_**

_Bridport, Dorset, England_

I sat patiently on bench right outside the train station watching a few pigeons fly around the treetops and buildings. Moody told me that my new employer was supposed to meet up with me at noon, and it was half an hour past that. I was getting hungry, since I hadn't had enough time to properly pack my belongings and skipped lunch. I was sure I left most of my clothes and possessions back in the apartment that the Ministry had set up for me.

The man behind the ticketing booth was eyeing me curiously, and I almost raised my hand to cover up the scar in my forehead with my hair before I stopped. It wasn't there anymore, but it had become a habit of mine, a defensive reflex whenever someone was staring at me since I knew they would ask if I remembered the night eighteen years ago when I defeated the Dark Lord.

I ran my hand through my hair, feeling the strange sensation of smooth, unbroken skin of my forehead. The moment Voldemort lay dead by my hand, my curse scar – the one I received from an AK courtesy of the bastard himself, immediately throbbed, and a few hours later was completely healed.

Of all the rewards, titles and praise that were given to me shortly after Voldemort's defeat, I considered the removal of my scar to be the best gift I received. It was after all the symbol of the tragedy that had befallen my family, and caused me endless hours of grief from overzealous fans who even wanted to touch it, thinking it could answer their prayers or give them luck.

My unmarked forehead also allowed me a sense of anonymity in the wizarding world. People were so used to seeing me with my famous scar that I could practically walk around Diagon alley (without my glasses of course), relatively unmolested with only the closest aurors that have trained me since the age of six capable of spotting me.

"Something wrong, son?"

I looked up from watching a few pigeons in an aerial duel and noticed that the man in the ticket booth had closed his station and was now standing in front of me, wearing a concerned look on his face.

I shook my head and smiled faintly at him, trying to be polite. He might know the location of a nearby eatery, and his cooperation depended on my manners.

"Nothing sir. I'm just waiting for something."

"Well you're going to have to wait a bit more I'm afraid." He looked at his watch. "The next train won't arrive till a few more hours."

"Oh, I'm not waiting for the train. It's just that I agreed to meet my new employer here, and he's late." I heard my stomach grumble and continued. "Do you suppose you know the nearest eatery? I'm quite famished."

"Then you're in luck lad. I'm on my way to get a bite, and I won't mind showing you the best pub in town." The man said brightly.

"Is it near?" I asked, worried that it might take too long to get there and that I would miss meeting up with my new employer.

"It's just down the street. Look, you can see it from here." The pointed at a distant speck down the main road, and I squinted, struggling to see without my glasses. Even here amongst muggles, I still couldn't risk it.

"Oh yeah. Looks nice." I lied.

The man let out a chuckle. "I know, it looks like it needs a few repairs and a fresh coat of paint, but Hugh's serves the best food in these areas, and it's cheap to boot. A few pounds and you'd have a complete meal."

The man led the way, and I shouldered my duffle bag and walked alongside him, relieved that I would be able to afford the establishment we were heading to. I only had a twenty pound note in my pocket, and a handful of knuts and sickles that were completely useless to me now.

The man from the train introduced himself as Patrick, and I introduced myself as Harry Parker. I was proud of my new, quickly thought-up surname. It was the perfect alias, since Parker was a fairly common name around Britain and I can claim to be from around some part of the country without raising suspicion.

Patrick's boast about Hugh's culinary excellence was fairly accurate, or perhaps I was really starving. Aside from the slight smell of grass and earth, the food was served in generous proportions without draining my meager budget. I learned that this was the working man's favorite diner.

Farmers, some smallholders, a butcher and a few fishermen are regulars of the pub, eager to spend a few hours drinking their favorite pint while exchanging stories for the day. One smallholder was excited about his pig called Maggie that was about to give birth anytime, while two farmers were debating what produce to sell for market day that weekend and what was most profitable.

"So."

Patrick began once he noticed that I had finished my mashed potatoes. I realized he was waiting for me to finish my meal before he asked his questions. I looked around and noticed a few of the regulars were trying to listen in. I wasn't surprised, people from smaller communities who basically knew each other were always curious of visitors.

"What's a young bloke like you doing around these parts?" Patrick asked genially.

"I'm here for a job." I answered and took a sip of locally ale to wash down the food in my throat. "I was supposed to meet my new employer right outside the train station, but they didn't turn up."

"Anyone I know?" Hugh, the owner of the pub asked.

"I never knew his name. My former boss just gave me this address." I handed a piece of paper to Hugh, and the regulars around him leaned in for a closer look.

"I know this place." Patrick said. "It's beyond Bridport, a few kilometers, no maybe more. There aren't a lot of houses that way."

"The one near the cliffs?" The farmer that mentioned his pig Maggie asked.

At Patrick's nod, the farmer faced me with a very serious expression on his face.

"That place's haunted lad." He told me, making me wonder if he was drunk or earnest in his statement.

"Haunted?" I asked.

"Yeah." The farmer nodded, and leaned closer as if to whisper, though his voice was loud enough for anyone in the room to hear without difficulty. "That old house was abandoned years ago, when the owner died. Rumor has it that the house itself was in a horrible state, caved in roof and rotting beams. Then one day a couple of years ago, I was hunting for wild mushrooms and passed the Red House."

"The red house?"

"It's what we call it, with its distinct red brick walls and red tile roof." The farmer said. "Anyway, imagine to my shock when I saw how pristine it was! The overgrown weeds were gone and the big fallen tree oak was cut up and stacked neatly, and the fence and gate mended. I thought I ate the wrong sort of mushroom!"

"What's the big deal then?" I asked. None of what I heard made me think that my new destination was haunted. And if it was haunted, so what?

"The big deal?" The farmer snorted. "There's only one road towards that place. We never saw the trucks that carried construction materials or the workers that fixed it up. And it should not have been that quick to completely refurbish that large of a house."

There, it was a sign of magic. I smiled to myself, glad that I finally found the right house.

I said goodbye to my new friends and declined an offered ride to the infamous Red House, a much talked about topic amongst the locals. Patrick from the train station told me that it would be the hottest topic again in the pubs and the market, since I was the first person they had met that was confirmed to be staying there.

After receiving directions from Hugh, who told me that a young, sprite man like me would be able to walk to the Red House in no time, I continued on my journey on foot with my belly full and a slight buzz of alcohol in my head.

Around ten minutes into my trek, I could already smell the sea, and relished as the sea born breeze that cooled me from the hot summer sun. I hadn't noticed it at first, but I already felt the back of my neck and arms were tingling from the direct sunlight, and realized I was going to have a bad case of sunburn if I didn't find shade soon.

I increased my pace, and just as I was about to reach the crest of the hill where a road was built on, a roar of a car engine scared the hell out of me, and a moment later a vehicle appeared out of nowhere and headed right towards me.

I only noticed the driver's shocked and scared eyes before my brain kicked in and forced my body to leap aside. It was close, I could tell since I felt the rushing air displaced by the runaway car brush past my body. I was lying on the ditch, breathing heavily and realized later that I did not come out of the near accident unscathed.

My duffel bag was a victim of hit and run.

I was cursing the driver in every imaginable language I had learned as I picked up bits of my clothes that lay across the road, lamenting some of the ruined shirts and trousers that I was sure could not be fixed even with magic. Some of my undershirts were soaked in mud, and some were missing. The car went past me so fast that I had no idea what model it was, it was painted gray, and I only got a fleeting glance of the driver's scared and shocked eyes.

I fixed my torn and abused duffle bag with a simple _Reparo_, and after cleaning of the blades of grass and dirt that was stuck on to my own clothes, I continued on my way, wondering if the place I was about to work to was indeed cursed. First, my future employer forgot to pick me up – I was sure, since I passed by the train station after eating to see if they were waiting for me. Second, I almost died due to a devil car, and third, my trusty duffel bag had fallen victim to an inept driver who hadn't even bothered to stop and check if I was fine.

I promised to myself that if I met the driver again I'd give them a piece of my mind.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

I stood in front of the _Red House_, admiring the structure and the surrounding vegetation. The Red House was appropriately named - the walls were made of bright red brick, with two chimney stacks rising out from each end of the darker red tiled roof. There was a barn and a tool shed, and a gravel path from the gate leading to just outside the house. The owner (and my future employer) obviously loved gardening, from what I could tell there were several neatly flower beds with colors ranging from yellow, to pink and blue.

I stepped closer to the gate, and immediately I felt a slight tingle in my fingers as I reached to touch the metal bars. It was a ward of some sort, and from what I could tell it was what most home owners use to alert them of visitors.

I stood around for a minute, watching the scenery and observing what would be my new place of residence if everything goes smoothly. Then I noticed a figure walking up towards the gate, and I took a deep breath to ease my nervousness and smiled.

"Yes? What can I do for you?"

I was surprised by his accent, but I didn't show it. Instead I held my smile and waited for the middle aged man to step closer to the gate.

"I'm here for the job?" I said faintly.

He frowned and had a confused expression on his face. He had a dark brown hair, and was wearing work clothes. He held in his left hand a pair of rubber gloves, but I could see the tip of a wand peeking from his sleeve.

"You must be mistaken." The man said. "Perhaps you have the wrong house?"

"I was given this address by Moody." I replied and held out a piece of paper that the crazy auror had written on. "I'm quite sure this is the right address."

"Moody?" He looked stunned for a moment. Maybe he thought that I was a muggle lost in the back roads of Dorset. I knew I looked strange, with bits of grass and dirt that I haven't managed to remove clinging to my shirt and pants.

"Moody." I repeated. "Alastor Moody. He told me that you were looking for a tutor, and I was uniquely qualified for the job."

I saw realization dawning on his face that I was a wizard. "But, I thought..." He shook his head and opened the gate and allowed me to step through. I noticed him appraising me, and I stood a little straighter, my shoulders thrown back to appear more competent.

"You're certainly not what I expected." He said after a moment. He seemed to be thinking hard for a moment, until he nodded. "Well, if you're what Alastor Moody sent, then I'll trust in his judgment."

"I can assure you sir that I'm a fairly capable wizard." I said. I didn't mean to sound boastful, but I knew I was quite a dueler, with a handful repertoire of spells and curses. "I'm also quite good at transfiguration, potions and charms..."

"I didn't mean about that." The man said, looking me in the eye. We were about the same height, though he was of heavier build. "When Alastor told you that you would be uniquely qualified, did you know why?"

I thought for a moment before I answered as we walked along the gravel path. "I assumed that you needed a wizard that could teach almost all the basics of magic. Am I wrong sir?"

He laughed for a moment before he coughed and I look at him with concern. Those coughs sounded retched and painful, I actually expected him to spit out blood.

"Are you alright sir?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine." We reached the Red House and he invited me to come in, and we he led right to the kitchen.

"I'll explain when my wife and daughters arrive, and then you'll understand." He said as we both sat down.

The glass of cold water soothed my parched throat and I had to drink carefully not to spill on my chin.

"Julian?"

We both turned around at the sound of a melodic female voice and my eyes widened at the sight of perfection. It was a blond woman, with blue eyes and a dainty nose, with milky white skin. Her hair reached her waist, but even at its length, it was impossibly straight and shiny.

I swallowed and looked back at my employer and I realized that we hadn't introduced ourselves to each other. He was looking back at me, observing my reaction to the woman and I immediately schooled my features, though it was quite hard not to ogle.

The woman swept across the kitchen and leaned down to kiss the man who was obviously her husband before she stood slightly behind his chair and looked at me with curious eyes.

"And who is this?" She asked. They exchanged glances but no one spoke.

I felt a strange, fuzzy feeling in my head, and forbidden thoughts came unbidden in my mind. I wanted to beg the woman to marry me, to get down on my knees and propose to her in front of her... husband? I struggled and fought the strange sensation off, noticing that it wasn't natural and the seductive whispers in my ears slowly died out.

I was frowning, wondering what caused this sensation and I looked at the couple facing me. The woman was smiling at me, while the middle aged man wore a satisfied expression on his face.

"Veela?" I asked, recognizing the effects on my mind (and my libido).

The woman nodded and gave her husband an approving nod.

"We haven't been introduced." The man said finally, offering a hand across the kitchen table. "I am Julian Delacour, and this is my wife, Apolline."

I took the hand and shook it, and wondered if Julian would have offered his hand, if I didn't pass what I recognized now as his impromptu test.

"My name's Harry Parker." I said evenly, slightly annoyed that I was lured into a test, though I knew the importance of passing it. I was also embarrassed, having thoughts about his very vivacious wife. It must have shown on my face because Apolline laughed.

"Forgive me for being rude earlier, but I didn't want to get too acquainted with you if you had a weak mind. It seems that Alastor was right that you are uniquely suited to be my daughter's tutor." Julian said.

"You needed someone who has a natural resistance to allure given off by those with Veela heritage." I replied.

"Yes." Julian nodded at me. "I was skeptical at first. Usually men who are older and have families have the resistance against the allure. I was actually expecting and someone older."

I nodded. That made sense. Men with the natural resistance to the allure had to have strong will. Moody knew I was suited since I was resistant to the imperius curse.

Apolline then offered her hand, and I made my first mistake when I shook her hand instead of kissing it, as expected of a cultured and polite gentleman. I was grateful that she ignored my mistake, and I thought they both found it amusing.

"I was expecting to be of employ to an English family, to be honest." I said. "I was surprised when I heard your accent, Mister Delacour."

They were living in English soil after all, so I decided to use English terms. Besides, I don't know a single word of the French language, besides the bastardized version of _Bonjour_.

"How old are you, Mr. Parker?" Apolline asked me.

I stood to help her carry the three mugs and plates to the nearby sink. "I'm twenty, mam." I replied politely.

She looked surprised and peered at me again, assessing my appearance. Now that I was standing up, the near death experience I had an hour ago was more noticeable.

"And what happened to you?" She asked.

"I almost got run over when I made my way here." I remembered the careless driver and my irritation with him spiked up. "Stupid driver, I almost died." I muttered.

"I thought you were picked up by Julian?" Apolline asked, now looking confused.

Julian's demeanor changed, and he looked embarrassed with a shaky smile on his face. I wondered why.

"I apologize, Mr. Parker." Julian said. "I'm afraid that I relied on my eldest to be responsible for once. I asked her yesterday to pick up Gabrielle's new tutor, and like all young people she must have forgotten."

"And in her haste, she rushed to get to the meeting place, nearly running over Mr. Parker, who had to walk all the way from town to get here." Apolline finished, looking annoyed. "I'll have words with that young woman."

"Darling! You know her relationship with that Englishman is not going well! They had recently separated, and she has a lot on her mind." Julian tried to reason with her wife.

Mrs. Delacour's reply was in French, but somehow I got the context of their conversation. It seems that Julian was, once again, spoiling her daughters, and Apolline wanted to enforce some discipline and order around the house.

I heard a rumble of an engine and both looked out the window in time to see a gray, two door car head into the barn that they must have used as a garage. The Delacour couple continued their argument in whispers until a voice stopped them.

"Mama! There was no one there!" A woman wearing a scarf on her hair and shades walked in and immediately headed to the icebox to presumably get a drink. She opened the cap of an orange juice soda bottle and I watched in amusement as she drank it, nearly finishing the contents and let out a satisfied burp.

"I waited, and waited, and followed Papa's instructions on where he should be sitting, but no one was there! A few men were giving me strange looks and so I decided to leave. Such rudeness! Typical of the English!" She ranted, unaware of my presence.  
"Fleur!" Her mother said in a harsh whisper but she was ignored.

"And when I was on my way to the town, there was this crazy person! Walking along the road like some lunatic, unmindful of the vehicles passing by! The road is built for vehicles, not for pedestrians to walk along like in a park! Luckily for him, I managed to avoid him!" She continued.

I was not walking along like I was in a park. I was hot from walking, and was just relishing the smell of the sea and cool wind. And Fleur was obviously arranging the story to suit her. Well, I decided to tell the other side of the tale.

"Fleur! We have a guest!" Julian stopped her daughter to save her from further embarrassment.

The young woman looked around and stopped when she looked directly at me.

"Who are you?" She asked rudely.

"I'm the lunatic Englishman you nearly killed." I said pleasantly, honoring Britain with a traditional reply full of sarcastic, dry wit and with a dash of humor.

Later, when I was unpacking what was left of my salvageable clothes, I realized that I should have kept my mouth shut, since I realized that embarrassing the daughter of my employers was not a good idea. Luckily, Apolline found it amusing while Julian hid a smile as he watched her daughter gaping at me. She knew who the real liar was.

My job was description was more than I expected. All I knew was that I was to be a live-in tutor, but from the conversation I had with Apolline and Julian, it looked like there was more. Though it wasn't spoken directly, it was implied that I was expected to help around the house, and they were willing to pay more. I understood their request. I figured that hired help able to do a man's work was hard to get in a house with Veela heritage.

My request to have my salary in pounds was accepted without question, though I knew they thought it was unusual for a wizard to be paid in muggle currency. I was still wary into coming into contact with the wizarding world, even a small branch office of Gringotts, and Moody assured me that this quaint place in Dorset was the last place they would look for Harry Potter.

I was given the third floor, the attic of the Red House to be my room, and though it was small, I found it charming in its own way. I had a nice bed, my own loo though there was no tub, and a nice view of the sea through the large window with a small veranda. It was even better than I hoped for, my hideaway from the Wizarding world.

I haven't met my student, Gabrielle, as we ate dinner. Apolline told me she was still with her friends and other relatives in France, having a vacation. The Delacours loved their vegetables, and I didn't complain, it was certainly well prepared. They weren't vegetarians, but Julian was proud to show off the fruits of his labor to his family.

I had finished my dinner and was about to head to my room when she walked in. Fleur looked at me with wariness and sat down opposite me in the small kitchen table. She was obviously pissed at me for embarrassing her earlier, but I paid it no mind.

I was not one to hold a grudge, and even if she nearly killed me earlier, she had a perfect excuse. She was a woman, and women drivers should be given allowances for almost all traffic incidents they caused except when they killed someone.

Most especially hot, veela women drivers.

I thought that evening would be a quiet one, as I started drifting off to sleep. I opened my windows, letting the sea breeze into my room on the hot summer night. The sound of the waves crashing lulled me gently to sleep when an ear piercing scream snatched me back from the dream world.

"HE did it! HE did it!"

I slowly walked down and relaxed once I understood that my employers were not under attack by the death eaters. There was a loud chattering in French, and some I picked up as English. I slid my wand back into my wrist holster and walked towards the living room.

There was a mini Fleur jumping around, obviously tanned as she waved a newspaper around her arms. The large text was obviously in French, but I could still read my name. Apolline was trying to snatch the paper from the mini Fleur while Julian tried to placate the girl.

Fleur only gave me a glance and returned her attention to the girl that is obviously her sister.

Apolline was a fast draw. She had the wizarding paper in her hands with a quick summoning charm before even Gabrielle realized it was missing from her hands.

"Merde." I heard Apolline whisper as her eyes quickly read the front page news.

"What is it Gabrielle?" Julian demanded.

"Papa! The Dark Lord is defeated!" Gabrielle said breathlessly. "It happened yesterday! He did it! Harry Potter won!"

I cringed. I did not win. It was just a fluke, an accident, or something like that. My duel with him was not the awe inspiring epic battle that the Daily Prophet probably depicted in tonight's special issue. I had expected this would soon trickle down to remote wizarding homes like the Delacour's but I didn't realize that it would be this quick.

The Delacours quickly discussed the latest news on the second wizarding world war, and I noted the enthusiasm and genuine emotion of happiness and relief on their faces.

Apolline glanced around the room after she passed the paper to her husband, and I noted her surprised look when she noticed me. Maybe she wasn't yet used to having someone else not from her family around the house, but she quickly smiled and beckoned to me come closer.

"It looks like today is full of surprises, albeit good ones." She said, once the excitement died down. "First, the Dark Lord has been defeated, and now Gabrielle's new tutor has arrived."

"Mama?" Gabrielle looked confused. She still hadn't spotted her new tutor, with her back turned to me.

Apolline turned her shoulders around and I saw the surprised look on the teenager's face. "Gabrielle, this is your new tutor, Mister Harry Parker."

I could tell my new student wasn't pleased from the frown on her face. It was barely two weeks since the summer season started for those that studied at magical schools, and I assumed she was looking forward to taking a break from learning.

I myself hadn't experienced attending a normal school since muggle kindergarten, and I guessed she wasn't looking forward to doing homework while her own friends are having fun.

"But the Dark Lord is defeated!" Gabrielle exclaimed. "Beauxbatons will open this June Papa! I don't need a tutor!" She turned to her mother with her large blue eyes. I could have fallen for the act if it was directed at me. "Mama?"

Apolline frowned at her daughter, and I guessed that she was used to this display.  
"No. Madame Olympe is not even sure if Beauxbatons will open after the extensive damage it received from the war. Count yourself lucky Gabrielle. I know for a fact that several of your friend's parents are planning the same thing this summer, and it is difficult to get a competent tutor."

"We are lucky enough to have Mr. Parker here to teach you." Apolline finished. She eyed her husband, and as if waiting for him to support her in convincing their daughter.

Julian took the hint, though his face was less stern than his wife's. "Gabrielle, I asked Alastor Moody three days ago if he wanted to teach you."

I smiled when I saw Gabrielle's widen even more. I knew she recognized the name.

"He was injured in the last battle, and could not participate at the war effort since he needed rehabilitation for a few more months." Julian said. "I thought perhaps he could use a vacation, spending a few hours a day teaching my daughter the finer points of magic. But even injured, Moody was still needed in the war because of his experience. Luckily, he sent me a missive that he would be sending Mr. Parker as his replacement."

I remembered that Beauxbatons had suffered extensive damages, not just to the school's structure but as well as its teaching staff. Even if Hogwarts was at the epicenter of the second wizarding war, it had survived relatively unscathed, due to some sort of perverted respect that Voldemort and his followers had for the school. Perhaps it was because most of the death eater's children studied there and both the British Ministry of Magic and Voldemort's forces had a silent agreement in limiting casualties in the area.

Voldemort didn't want to risk losing his followers by endangering their children, and Hogwarts, aside from the groundskeeper Hagrid and Charms professor Flitwick, had a relatively pure blood teaching staff and low ratio of muggleborns to purebloods.

Beauxbatons however, had a reputation of accepting wizards and witches with mixed ancestry. Madame Olympe was a prime example, I was sure she had giant blood like Hagrid, and there were rumors in the auror barracks that their teaching staff was mostly composed of beautiful veela witches. Voldemort didn't care for hot veela witches, and his brutal attacks on the Beauxbatons forced most of the students to stay at their homes or even hide.

Gabrielle said something in French, and it must have been rude because her sister snorted while Apolline took a deep breath.

"Gabrielle! That is very rude!" Apolline said. "Apologize to Mr. Parker at once!"

Julian was shooting me an apologetic gaze and I knew this would be difficult summer.

I was sure Fleur was out to kill me.

I woke up early the next morning, slightly confused on where I was before my memories of yesterday rushed back into my head.

I spent a few minutes stretching my legs and enjoying the smell of the sea, it was really pleasant to wake up hearing the waves gently crashing down on the rocks. It was still early, the sun hadn't yet risen but I could see the dawning sky from my window.

Since I haven't seen a sunrise in ages, I decided to lean out on the small terrace of my attic room and wait for the rising sun out there. It was so peaceful, and calm, that I even had a slight smile on my face.

My peaceful morning was rudely interrupted when the door to my new room flung open, making me jump in surprise. I nearly fell over the wooden rail, and I spent a few moments wiggling my arms in panic while my feet struggled to remain on the floor. Once I regained my footing, I turned to her and found her slightly amused face.

"What was that for?" I asked.

She didn't answer my question and just informed me that breakfast was ready.

"You could have knocked." I said evenly.

She acted like she didn't even hear what I said and turned her back to me and headed down the stairs.

I must have looked like a fright when I finally joined the Delacours because Gabrielle covered her mouth to stop herself from giggling. I knew I wasn't looking my best, since I had already worn my most presentable clothes. And thanks to _someone_, the rest of the clothes I had left were ruined, missing or waiting out to dry in my own room.

I was wearing gray and a blue, worn sweater. I knew my hair was a mess, even with my new haircut and a quick combing, it stuck out all over the place.

"Not a morning person, are you Mr. Parker?" Gabrielle said.

I hadn't talked with my new student last night, and decided to answer her even with her slightly mocking tone.

"No, I usually wake up early." I said, grabbing a few pieces of toast from the table. "It's just that this is a new place after all, and I was a bit disoriented when I woke up."

"Where are you from?" Apolline asked curiously.

"I'm from London." I figured that If I stuck to my real story and omitting a few details along the way that I'd be fine.

"And how do you know Alastor?" Julian asked. I noticed that he was wearing his gardening clothes. He must really like gardening for him to start this early.

"We knew each other from the ministry. Moody taught me a few things."

"Are you an auror?" Gabrielle asked. She looked excited, as if she thought I'd teach her powerful curses and hexes.

"No. I'm not from the auror force. I work for another department, but I'm not allowed to say."

"Unspeakable." Fleur murmured, looking straight at me. Apolline looked surprised, but Julian hid his reaction better. Meanwhile, Gabrielle was practically emitting excitement from her seat with the way she looked at me.

I didn't confirm what Fleur said. Let them think what they want, if I was some secret agent working for some mysterious department, or just an employee. It was further away from the truth, further away from my real identity.

The momentary silence in the room was disturbed with the arrival of two, tired looking brown owls. Apolline was expecting them, since she had a few knuts nearby to pay for the papers and a platter of food for the birds. The owls must have been flying nonstop all morning making deliveries, since they immediately flew down near the sink and immediately started eating the bits of meat.

Apolline told me yesterday that they didn't subscribe to the daily prophet when they moved to Britain, fearing that it would attract the attention of the Dark Lord's supporters. It was a bit paranoid of her, since the chances of a death eater finding their location by following a delivery owl was slim. I guess she was just being a mother, protecting her family.

I wondered if the ministry had realized my escape, and the answer was confirmed when Apolline, after reading the front page for a minute, announced to us what was the latest news.

"It looks like everybody's celebrating, and everyone's praising the hero of the hour." Apolline read the other paper, while Julian grabbed the daily prophet to read it for himself.

"Albus Dumbledore's making a speech today at London." Julian added.

"Can we go?" Gabrielle asked. "Maybe Harry Potter will be there!"

"Pfft." Fleur blew a stray lock of her long blonde hair that was bothering her nose. If she wasn't wearing a frown I'd have called that gesture cute. "No. He might be there. I do not want to see that stupid man."

Fleur must really dislike me, since she even hated my real identity when I realized she wasn't talking about Harry Potter.

"We won't go." Apolline decided. She raised her hand to cut off Gabrielle before the girl could protest. "There are too many people, and while the Dark Lord is defeated, not all of his servants are willing to concede defeat. It is too risky."

Apolline was a smart woman. She was not only beautiful, but cautious, and had tons of common sense. I haven't even thought of that. I never really saw the war from a civilian family's perspective. The Delacours had survived by keeping a low profile, and moving to an isolated location far from wizarding populations.

Gabrielle understood, and she didn't start anymore protests even though I could see she was disappointed. I decided to talk to Julian about my plans for Gabrielle. He invited me along to see the rest of his garden and we headed out of back door, facing the sea.

I hadn't noticed the narrow small gate at the edge of the cliff from my window in the attic, but when I stepped closer to the rail I saw a flight of stone stairs carved into the face of the cliff heading down the beach.

Julian's garden was full of vegetable patches suited for the summer season, and paths made of gravel that crisscrossed the land allowed a person to walk around the backyard without getting their shoes muddy.

"So what's Gabrielle's strongest subject?" I began.

"She's good at charms, like her mother." Julian said. He inspected his plants, touching a few of the leaves before turning to the next. "Before we pulled her out of Beauxbatons, her grades with the other core subjects are average. But considering their lack of proper teachers due to the war, her scores are admirable. Gabrielle's a capable witch, like her sister."

Julian was the doting father type, and obviously he thought the world about his girls.

"Right." I ran a hand across my hair to allow the wind to soothe my scalp. My mind was racing, thinking on what to teach a fourteen year old girl. "I'll prepare a practical test to evaluate her skills in the subjects."

Julian nodded, but before I could head back inside, he called my name and I saw his entire demeanor of a gentle man change. His accent was even more noticeable than normal. "I completely trust Alastor Moody, and since he obviously trusts you to teach my daughter, then, I too will put my trust in you. Please do not abuse this."

"Don't worry." I said, suddenly feeling nervous. "The last thing I want is to hurt your daughter, or any of your family. I only want a peaceful, quiet life, Mister Delacour. And don't worry about your daughter. I'll make sure by the time I'm finished teaching Gabrielle, she'd be at the top of her class, and she would be able to hold her ground against an inner circle death eater."

I probably shouldn't have said that part, since Julian looked surprised for a moment. But then he smiled kindly at me, and patted my shoulder before he headed deeper into his garden. I felt like we had an understanding, and I headed back inside, thinking about suitable exercises to evaluate my student's current ability.

End of chapter 1

A/N: I dislike silly, long author's notes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Runaway Wizard**

By: **Bluminous**

A/N: Harry Potter is owned by J.K. Rowling

**Chapter 2**

I found Fleur and Apolline still inside the kitchen, finishing their breakfast while they read their respective wizarding newspapers between bites. Gabrielle wasn't there so I asked where she was.

"She's probably in her room." Apolline answered. "Are you going to start her lessons today?"

I nodded. "I thought I'd evaluate her skills first, give her a test. That way, I'd know where to start."

"I'd like to observe your teaching methods. Where do you plan to conduct the lessons?" Apolline asked.

I didn't know what to say. I thought she would be the one to provide me with a place.

"What do you suggest?" I asked.

She bit her lower lip in thought and I never realized that such an innocent gesture could be so sensual at the same time. I realized that she was unconsciously using her allure and I focused instead on the old painting hanging on the kitchen wall so that I wouldn't ogle her.

"The gazebo at the back beside Julian's garden... Would it do?" She suggested.

I nodded. It was perfect. I thought she'd suggest the living room, but I feared that we might permanently break something when practicing, and I didn't want to get fired on my first day of teaching. Not everything can be repaired by magic after all.

The Delacours lived modestly, but I could tell they once lived in a lifestyle far above their current station. Some of their furniture had intricate designs and carvings that they wouldn't seem out of place in the Minister of Magic's office, and he was known for his expensive tastes. I wondered what happened to my current employers during the war that caused them to live in a simple house in Dorset.

It wasn't really a simple house, since it was as big as the houses that I've seen in my short stay at Bridport. Perhaps I was just used to the palace-like houses that are owned by the minister's _campaign contributors_ when he used to bring me along.

Gabrielle and Fleur each had their own rooms in the second floor, along with the master bedroom. The third floor had a large open space, but separated by a large curtain. One end was my room, with my window facing the sea. The other end was crammed full of old furniture and boxes, (I peeked before I went to sleep) and even old paintings that didn't move.

I was rocked out of my musings when I heard footsteps running down the flight of stairs. I looked up and saw Gabrielle grinning while holding her wand, it looked like it was just polished. She was obviously excited and I couldn't help but get sucked in by her enthusiasm.

She was wearing blue jogging pants with a matching shirt. Both had a design of two wands crossing each other sewn in the material, and I realized later that it was the crest of Beauxbatons. She really looked adorable, with her hair pulled up behind her in a ponytail, and her budding curves showing her figure hugging attire that promised the woman she would soon become...

Apolline must have thought I was crazy since I suddenly smacked my forehead – hard. I shook my head, and realized again that my student was releasing a good amount of allure. It seems that those with veela heritage released their allure whenever they were feeling strong emotions and they varied differently from each person. Gabrielle had a strong allure compared to her mother and sister.

In that moment, I realized that living in the Red House was going to be more complicated, rather than the simple, carefree life that I envisioned when I first arrived.

"Someone looks excited." Fleur smiled at her sister while we headed to the gazebo. She had decided that she too wanted to observe our first lesson. I wasn't really surprised with their decision. I guessed they wanted to make sure they hired a competent tutor and not some dangerous, insane wizard that was attracted to their fourteen year old daughter.

We passed by Julian, he was on his knees tilling the soil, sweat and dirt marring his face. I was amazed by his dedication to gardening, it was a hot day, and even I felt uncomfortable in my shirt and pants. Gabrielle ran ahead and hugged her father, and they exchanged a few whispered words, both grinning like mad at each other before Julian turned to me and smiled.

ooo

* * *

It was really disconcerting to see Apolline and Fleur sitting at the far bench in the Gazebo while Gabrielle sat in front of me. I was leaning against one of the posts, while tapping my wand on the side of my leg. We had just removed some of the wooden chairs and benches suited for the outdoors to the side, to make space for the practical lessons I had planned which involved footwork - a very essential skill in dueling.

"How's your English?" I asked. I wanted to make sure that we could communicate well before we started throwing magic around. I wanted to be _certain_ that she followed my instructions to the letter, I've seen enough magical mishaps in a lifetime and I didn't want her, or the both of us to suffer some irreversible curse.

"Gabrielle's English is perfect." Fleur answered from the back. "She knows three languages."

"Well that's good I guess." I gave the older Delacour sister a glance before I looked back at my student. I couldn't help but be annoyed by her interruption.

"Stand up, take your wand out." I ordered.

I was thinking about how to teach a fourteen year old veela, wondering what method that I should use. I had many teachers since I started training at the age of six, and I had many examples to draw upon. I finally decided to copy one my teachers, Alastor Moody, but without the constant shouting of _Constant Vigilance!_ He always made each and every one of my lessons exciting, and I wagered Gabrielle would find his methods less boring rather than endless drones of lecture.

My lips twitched when I saw Gabrielle take her wand out from the back pocket of her jogging pants. Hammering elementary wand safety into her head would be fun.

"Do you know how many wizards and witches lost their buttocks or worse, because their wands discharged when it was stuck in their back pockets?"

Gabrielle's shocked face made laugh out loud for the first time since the second wizarding war began.

ooo

* * *

I decided that the quickest way to determine Gabrielle's current level in magical knowledge and application was through a quick practical lesson in Defense against the dark arts, namely a duel.

Offensive spells that are used in duels consisted of a mixture of hexes, curses and jinxes- all used charms or transfiguration, even both together, to manipulate the magic that the caster needed in combat.

I wanted to see the spells Gabrielle was capable of and so I told her to use everything she knew to disarm me of my wand.

As I expected, she looked hesitant and unsure of herself, and so I smiled to encourage her.

"It's all right Gabrielle. You can use anything you know to disarm me, unless you know the Unforgivables." I joked.

"Everything?" She asked.

"Sure. Cast any spell you want. I won't hit back, but remain on the defensive. The objective is for you to disarm me of my wand." I explained patiently.

She looked hesitantly at her mother, as if to get permission, and I followed her gaze. I should have suspected that something was up when I saw Fleur smiling at me and she even winked.

"Stupefy!"

There was a slight difference in her pronunciation because of her accent, but nevertheless, the spell was effective.

I quickly turned around and parried the stunning curse with my wand, sending it towards the ceiling. I could have deflected it back towards my sneaky student, or her older sister but I wanted to make a good impression for my first class.

"Sneaky." I smiled at the look of surprise in Gabrielle's face.

"How..."

"It's generally frowned upon to curse your teacher while his back his turned, or using others as a distraction." I gave Fleur a glance, while I tapped my wand on my thigh. "But then, I told you to use everything to disarm me, so I can't fault you for that."

Fleur looked disappointed that I had not fallen prey to their trap while Apolline had moved closer to us, probably to get a better view of my first lesson.

"That was an impressive stunning curse Gabrielle." I turned to my student. "Not many witches your age could have done that."

Gabrielle smiled briefly from my praise before she asked, "How did you block my curse with just your wand? Shouldn't you use a shield?"

"I could have, but there was not enough time to cast it while my back was turned." I said.

Gabrielle's reddened a little, but she remained attentive to what I was saying.

"Experienced duelers deflect and parry curses with their wands by channeling raw magic through it. It is not a skill that even grown witches and wizards learn, because it is very difficult and dangerous in an actual duel."

"What do you mean by channeling raw magic?" Gabrielle asked.

I paused for a moment, thinking of a simple example that she would understand easily. "Before you cast a curse and say the incantation, do you feel slight tingling sensation in your skin?"

Gabrielle looked thoughtful before nodding. "Yes, now that I think about it. I do not notice it these days. It is the raw magic?"

"Yes." I nodded. "But we're not going into that yet. Any other questions before we proceed?"

"Why do you say blocking curses with your wand is dangerous?"

I was surprised that Fleur had asked a question. She was now seated in a desk nearest us with her mother, listening intently on my lecture.

"Is is dangerous, because you need precision to block any incoming curses." I nodded at her. "Also, a powerful wizard or witch can overcome your own magic and fry your wand, and it's not something anyone wants when they're in the middle of a battlefield."

"Can you teach it to me?" Gabrielle asked eagerly. "I can already cast the shield charm!"

"Sorry Gabrielle, it is really advanced magic, not something even N.E.W.T. students study." I said. "Now, why don't we move on transfiguration? I'll even teach you some tricks that you can use while dueling your opponents later."

Gabrielle's expression brightened to only fall again as I transfigured a long bench into a large blackboard. She realized that I was planning to teach her theory first, and like all young witches and wizards, she probably abhorred it.

"But first, we have to go to the theory of transfiguration." I said, smiling at her pout. She probably thought it was going to be a boring lecture, and I felt the same thing when I was around her age. Basics and theory were important though, and there are no shortcuts.

* * *

ooo

Fleur's car roared through the narrow roads of Bridport, and I checked again to see if my seatbelt was properly fastened. Gabrielle was sitting behind us in the backseat, talking with her sister about what she was going to buy with her week's allowance.

It seemed that my talk yesterday about proper wand safety was taken seriously by the Delacours, and they decided that I should accompany their daughters to purchase wand holsters for all of them.

I was nervous at first, thinking that we would head to Diagon alley and to Ollivander's. I was sure that the ancient wand crafter would be able to recognize me, scar or no scar. Thankfully, Julian told me about a small, isolated wizarding supply store right in the middle of Bridport.

Julian explained to me that the war had forced many of the small store owners of various magical commodities to spread out across the country, to avoid the attacks that the death eaters usually staged in Diagon Alley.

Protective wards were expensive, and not all could afford paying for the ministry or the goblin's services while trying to make a profit.

"What's the name of the store again?" I shouted over the wind to Fleur.

I guess she didn't hear me, but her sister did.

"It is called Madam Puddifoot's" Gabrielle answered.

I blinked, and looked behind me to see if she was joking. I recognized the name. It was a small tea shop that usually caters to students in Hogsmeade, and I spent my early years as an auror trainee patrolling the area when the war erupted.

"I didn't realize that a tea shop sold wand holsters." I decided to speak with the young Delacour sister, since she was more likely to answer my questions that her obviously still pissed sister.

"Where were you during the war?" I turned to see that Fleur had finally decided to talk. "No doubt you were hiding deep inside the ministry."

"I didn't..." I protested, but she continued speaking.

"Most of the store owners that changed addresses noticed that wizards and witches are very nervous when shopping, and wanted to buy all of their needs in just one location." Fleur said. "Madam Puddifoot started selling all kinds of wizarding merchandise to maintain her profits."

I nodded, it was logical I suppose. The less time you were out in the open, the less likely you would be attacked by the death eaters or get caught in the crossfire in a skirmish between aurors and dark wizards.

"How's the security in her store?" I asked.

"Enough." Fleur turned the wheel to the left to avoid what looked to be bales of hale and changed gears again. "We gave her establishment additional wards, though not in the level of Ollivander's, or the others that refused to move from their premises in Diagon Alley."

"We?" I asked. "Did you fight in the war?"

"Of course she did!" Gabrielle piped up from behind. It was clear that fourteen year old looked up to her sister. "She was a member of the Order..."

"Gabrielle!" Fleur snapped. "What did I tell you about that?"

"But the war is over! And he who must not be named is dead!" Gabrielle said stubbornly.

I suddenly felt nervous when I realized that Fleur was an operative of the infamous Order of the Phoenix. They were a vigilante organization that had popular support within the population. Minister Fudge was at first annoyed at their activities, fearing that he would lose his popularity. But as the war dragged on, he grudgingly acknowledged that the vigilante group's actions helped against the fight against Voldemort, and later deputized the Order of the Phoenix with the same powers as the auror corps.

There were many rumors about the Order of the Phoenix in the Auror barracks. The most famous one was that most of our superiors were part of the group, though I couldn't imagine Madame Bones following anyone's orders, since even the minister feared bossing her around.

Another was that the most of the intelligence we acted upon was based from the order's information, that they were an excellent intelligence gathering organization. They were supposedly very interested in me, and that was why Fudge kept me in a tight leash and surrounded me with his most trusted aurors, meaning they constantly received gifts from the minister.

For Fleur to be a member meant that she was a capable witch, and if news of my disappearance became public, no doubt that the order would soon hunt for my whereabouts. I had to be careful.

"...there are still many death eaters that are still roaming free." I listened in as Fleur and Gabrielle argued. "We have to remain vigilant."

"I heard form a few friends that the Order's very famous in the auror barracks" I added, hoping to hear more of the mysterious organization.

"No doubt." Fleur said. "If it weren't for us, the ministry would have fallen years ago."

I wanted to dispute her statement, but I couldn't annoy her again, since she seemed like she was in a talkative mood. "Then let me, in behalf of the ministry, thank you. If what you say is true, then if it weren't for your organization, I would be out of a job."

She gave me a steady look, and I feared we would crash on the rows of hedges that lined the narrow dirt road. "What exactly, is your job, in the ministry, Mr. Parker?"

"I can't say." I mumbled, wondering why she was so curious about my job. She couldn't possibly know what my true identity is, could she?

"Mr. Parker's an Unspeakable..." Gabrielle began, but she was interrupted by her sister.

"Please." Fleur snorted. "I know for a fact that Unspeakables are not secret agents that you keep comparing to those muggles you and Papa keep on watching on the television. They're just wizards and witches, mostly scholars - that study obscure branches of magic."

I was impressed. Not everybody knew what the Unspeakables really were, unless you were really friendly with those in power. It was rare for someone not in the higher ups in the ministry to know that the unspeakable were really just a bunch of introverts obsessed with their own research, slowly wasting their lives away in their poorly lit offices.

Sure, the department of mysteries from time to time managed breakthroughs in some branch of magic like time travel, (those time turners for example), but most of their discoveries were rarely useful and unpractical for the common witch and wizard. Unfortunately, the department of mysteries hadn't invented even one single spell that could help the ministry during the war.

She turned to me, ignoring her sister's crestfallen expression at the thought that her tutor, besides his clumsiness, was not some elite wizard. "And what you displayed yesterday was not something an unspeakable should know. It was obvious during the short time you taught Gabrielle, that you know your way around a fight."

I was starting to get nervous, not because of her suspicions but because she was looking straight at me, and had forgotten that she was actually driving a car. But she then had a thoughtful look on her face and thankfully, she focused her attention back to avoiding all of us suffering a horrible accident.

"But then..." She continued while her she continued looking forward. "Alastor Moody had sent you in his place."

I guess she finally realized _who_ had recommended me, and I know for a fact that Moody rarely trusts anyone. Hopefully, with the help of Moody's endorsement, Fleur would stop getting curious about my background. Still, I needed to tell her something, to ease her mind.

I've met several witches and wizards that acted like Fleur before. They were all high strung, nervous, and seemed to be infected by Moody's paranoia. I couldn't really blame them- or Fleur for their actions. It was war, and the enemy isn't above using the image of one's loved ones to get past their defenses and stab them in the back.

"Watch out!" I yelled.

I closed my eyes for a moment, fearing that we'd kill a cow munching beside the road. It looked like the animal had escaped and was happily munching on the green shoots beside the hedges, but was now looking curiously at our rapidly approaching death machine.

I partially opened one eye and breathed a sigh of relief when I realized we didn't hit anything... yet. I glanced at our driver and frowned at her atrocious driving.

"You should slow down." I said quietly.

Fleur glared at me for a moment then spoke. "Do you have a muggle driver's license?"

"Well, no..." I trailed off. "But there's this supersensory charm that..."

"Can you _even_ drive?" She asked scathingly, pronouncing every word slowly as if I was stupid to comprehend them.

"No." I said more firmly. I was about to continue, but once again she interrupted me. What the hell is wrong with her?

"Then do not offer me any advice in matters you do not know." She finished.

The three of us spent the rest of the short trip in silence, just listening to the hum of the engine as our lunatic driver changed gears every so often. I really thought this was a good idea back then, when Apolline suggested that we head into town. I wanted to learn more about my mischievous student and get to know her, but her older sister's bitchiness was getting in the way.

I glanced at the rear view mirror that Fleur didn't even bother to adjust and saw Gabrielle's expression. She looked like she was used to her sister's foul mood, since she was just combing her long hair down with her fingers. She caught my gaze and she grinned, clearly enjoying my poor treatment by her sister. I decided to just watch the hedges that lined the narrow dirt road, but that didn't turn out to be a good idea since I suddenly felt sick after a minute.

Thankfully we reached the town proper, and we soon passed the train station that I was supposed to get picked up two days ago. It turned out that Madam Puddifoot's was not far from Hugh's, the pub I had a quick lunch with.

If I had been a death eater, I would look past the small building as one of hundreds in the long street. Even with my trained senses, I couldn't detect any wards at all on the three story building. It had brown bricks and a darker brown roof, similar to the style as the Delacour's Red House in construction. There were no markings or signs to indicate that it was a store at all, just shrubs and plants that lined the front of the house.

Fleur didn't even bother to knock as she and Gabrielle entered the house while I hurried to follow them. The room we entered looked normal enough for a house, except for a very old telly in the corner and an assortment of muggle devices that I thought we entered an antique store.

"This way, Mister Parker." Gabrielle tugged the sleeve of my sweater. We headed down a small, poorly lit hallway and I almost stumbled when I heard the noise when Fleur opened the door at the end.

* * *

ooo

Madam Puddifoot looked like your average, run of the mill, middle aged housewife that seemed to thrive in being the center of attention, very similar to my former boss. The proprietor was listening to the wizarding wireless, while half a dozen witches listened patiently.

"_...and for some reason, Fudge has not yet presented our savior to the public! Is the minister concerned about all the attention that Harry Potter is receiving? Perhaps he is jealous, dear readers."_

I immediately recognized Skeeter's voice. She was at first, Fudge's most favorite person, when she still worked at the Daily Prophet. I remembered the yearly interviews I had with her when I was younger, where surprisingly my one word replies turned into full paragraphs with Rita Skeeter's _editing._

When the war dragged on, Rita started to criticize Fudge's inaction when his most valuable campaign contributor, Lucius Malfoy, was caught by aurors while attacking a muggleborn's house in London. This was when their relationship turned sour, and Rita's articles became venomous, and Fudge's bane of existence. Sadly, I was caught in the crossfire.

"Good morning." Fleur greeted. The other witches in the room waved to her and Gabrielle, and only gave me a passing glance.

"Fleur!" Madam Puddifoot hugged the older Delacour sister and beckoned her to sit with the rest of the witches on the table. "Come have tea with us! You wouldn't believe the latest gossip!"

Fleur accepted and sat among the witches, I guess this was a common occurrence. I just followed Gabrielle and we sat near to the shelves that lined the well lit, large room. Everywhere, shelves lined the walls, with circular tables and chairs in the middle with a bar at the end.

It was warmer inside, and Gabrielle removed her denim jacket, and I smiled when I saw her improvised wand holster- a scarf with floral design tied to her wrist. She really took my elementary wand safety lessons to heart, after I showed her visual images of what could happen if a wand misfired while tucked in the back pocket of one's pants.

I looked back at the laughing witches due to whatever Skeeter said and noticed Fleur's face. She had a strained smile on her face, obviously trying to be polite around the other witches who were in a celebratory mood.

"You have to forgive my sister." Gabrielle noticed where I was looking and had spoken up. "She's not usually like this."

"Really?" I had trouble believing Fleur could be anything but a bitch. She was still hot though...

"Well, she's really hard to please." Gabrielle admitted. "But before, she often made jokes around me and even played with my dolls when we were younger."

"So what happened?" I asked.

"Our home in France was destroyed." Gabrielle said sadly. "It was the same day that Beauxbatons was attacked by death eaters."

"Why would you move here to England then, when it's closer to the war?" I asked.

"It was Fleur who suggested we stay here in Bridport. Papa had given this house to Fleur and her fiancé for her upcoming marriage as a wedding gift, and she offered that we stay here and we would be under the Order of the Phoenix's protection." Gabrielle replied.

"She's engaged?" I never figured Fleur was the type to settle down and get married. From the short time that I had known her, she seems very bitter and angry, and it was all focused to me.

"Was engaged." Gabrielle said.

I leaned back on my chair and looked at the topic of our conversation. Gabrielle's story explained why her sister was in a foul mood. I suddenly felt bad for my own behavior against her, and decided to be more patient with her attitude, instead of responding with biting remarks and words.

"We really had a nice house in France." Gabrielle sighed. "My room was really big, and I had my own bathroom, and a balcony overlooking the gardens!"

That explained the odd pieces of furniture I noticed inside the Red House. I felt pity for the Delacour Family, and wondered how many other families suffered through the war.

"Then why don't you move back?" I asked. "The war is over, and Voldemort's dead."

Gabrielle squirmed a little when I mentioned the Dark Lord's name, but she didn't scold me like I expected. "That's why I'm so happy when I heard that Harry Potter defeated him! Mama and Papa are probably preparing to move back soon!"

"That's great." I smiled slightly.

"What's great?" Fleur said from behind me.

"I was telling Mister Parker about our home in France." Gabrielle answered, as she looked at her sister with excitement. "When do you think we're going back?"

"Gabrielle?" Fleur sighed. "You've probably asked me that question a dozen times for the last few days. I told you, it's up to Mama."

"But..." Gabrielle was about to protest, but her sister held one hand up and cut her off.

"We'll have this discussion once we got back, and in _private_."Fleur glanced at me for a moment, obviously did not want to discuss the matter around me. She held up two large paper bags and nodded to the exit. "Let's go, I have the wrist holder you kept on bugging me to get."

Gabrielle nodded and obediently followed her sister back to the car. I offered to carry the paper bags and Fleur's silence told me her answer. I was slightly annoyed with her attitude, even with the loss of her fiancé and decided to cool off. It was Saturday after all and decided to spend my first paycheck that I received that morning from Julian.

"I think I'll stay for a bit." I said once we reached the car. "I'll explore the town and get something to eat from the local pub, so tell your mother I'll be back after lunch."

I immediately turned around and headed to Hugh's, ready to order a meal that was of better quality and volume than the previous one I had inside the pub. I knew I was slightly rude when I told them of my plans and then walking away from Fleur without waiting for her reply, but her hostile attitude towards me was grating on my nerves, and getting a pint or two seemed like a good idea to cool off.

Thoughts of the Delacour sisters gradually slipped away from my mind at the prospect of a good meal, a pocket that actually contained British notes and not coins, and a town waiting to be explored.

* * *

ooo

As he claimed, Hugh's steak and homemade mead was excellent. I leisurely consumed the meal, and between bites I answered questions from the other patrons about the Red House and the family who was occupying it.

"They really like their privacy." I said while I played around with the slice of strawberry pie that Hugh's wife made. While Hugh's cooking was excellent, his wife's was not, judging from the untouched slices of strawberry pie that the other patrons had in front of them.

"I never figured that a French family's living there." Patrick, the first person I met in Dorset said.

"At least now we know it's not haunted." Hugh quipped. "It's worse, it's the French."

The patrons all laughed at Hugh's joke.

"They really are nice people. The father's quite the gardener. I think it helps him relax." I added, feeling the need to defend my host family. "You should see his vegetable garden and the flower beds, they're in full bloom. He's very passionate about plants."

"Hmmm." Patrick scratched his beard. "Well that explains why he moved his family here. Tell him if he's interested, he should enter the vegetable competition."

"I will Patrick."

"Does he own any livestock?" John, the farmer that I met days before that kept on talking about his pregnant Pig Maggie asked.

"No. I haven't seen any sheep or pigs. They use the barn for their two cars." I replied.

"Pity. That place has some prime grazing land." John said. "Well, tell... Julian was it?"

"Yeah."

"Well, tell him that if he's interested, I'm willing to sell him some young pigs and a couple of hens." John scratched his own beard. I was beginning to wonder if I should grow my own, though it would probably look silly on me.

"Will do John." I pulled a few notes and gave it to Hugh. "I'm off, that was a great meal."

"See you next Saturday!" Hugh waved.

* * *

ooo

"How was your afternoon Mr. Parker?" Apolline Delacour asked me as we were finishing dinner.

"I spent the afternoon looking at the various shops." I replied. "The people here are very friendly."

Seeing that I wasn't going to elaborate further, Apolline turned to her daughter. "Any news from Madam Puddifoot?"

"It's just the same Mama." Fleur began when she scrunched up her nose and paused for a few moments, and then snapped her fingers. "I almost forgot. We were listening to Rita Skeeter on the wireless, and there were some very interesting about the ministry that she revealed."

"You do know Rita Skeeter's reputation for distorting the truth." Julian warned her daughter. "Remember the triwizard tournament and those awful things she wrote about you?"

"Yes Papa." Fleur said. "But what she said this time is really intriguing. It's about Harry Potter."

"What about him?" Gabrielle asked instantly. I had an idea on what she would say next and just focused on my food.

"Rita's sources say that Harry Potter's missing, and that the Ministry is trying to cover up the fact that no one had seen him since his victory over the Dark Lord's." Fleur said seriously.

"Do you think he might be captured by his followers?" Apolline's eyes were wide with concern, the exact expression on her youngest daughter's face. I admit it was a very cute look on them.

"No one knows." Fleur said. This morning's issue of the Daily Prophet showed Fudge meeting with Dumbledore at Hogwarts. "It's possible that he's going to ask for our help to look for him."

"I hope he's not taken by those Death Eaters." Gabrielle said fearfully.

"I don't think a wizard that just defeated the Dark Lord can be easily captured by a bunch of death eaters." Julian tried to comfort his youngest. "He's probably taking a vacation somewhere."

I hid my smile while I drank my glass of water. Julian couldn't be closer to the truth than possible.

"There is some resentment against Harry Potter though." Fleur said slowly.

"What do you mean?" Apolline asked.

"A few of Rita Skeeter's readers expressed their disappointment at Harry Potter over the course of the war." Fleur explained. "That he had taken too long... and for someone who has been trained since childhood by the most experienced practitioners of magic, he should be more than a match against the Dark Lord."

"That's ridiculous!" Julian exclaimed, while Apolline and Gabrielle voiced their own protests. I suddenly felt grateful to the Delacour family, and affection grew in my chest as I looked at their faces.

"This British Ministry's incompetence simply amazes me." Julian took another sip from his glass of red wine. "Just because they have this prophecy they think they're assured of victory."

I remembered the exact words of the prophecy when I was 8, when I was led inside the Hall of Prophecies deep inside the Department of Mysteries. Fudge was there with me, and he had made its entire contents made public.

"They couldn't possibly know what the Order of Phoenix did to secure his victory!" Julian ranted, while Fleur and Apolline tried to calm him. "That prophecy isn't a guarantee that Potter would win. Damn Horcruxes..."

"Papa!" Fleur hissed.

"What?" Julian asked. He noticed me and waved off his daughter's concern. "Don't worry about Mr. Parker Fleur. Alastor trusts him, and so do I. Besides, we got them all, didn't we? And now the Dark Lord's dead."

The goblet slipped from my hand and it fell on the stone floor, breaking into thousands of pieces.

* * *

ooo

A/N: I did have dividers(Line breaks) for scene changes in my other stories. For some reason the ****(asterisks) had disappeared whenever I post it here.

Thanks to DLP for their valuable input.


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